


Different Beat

by yodepalma



Series: limit break [4]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Bullying, Fights, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Headcanon, Ignis does not need anybody to fight for him, Minor Violence, Name-Calling, Pre-Canon, Touch Aversion, and Gladio respects this, he also thinks it's hilarious
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:44:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10384899
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yodepalma/pseuds/yodepalma
Summary: Ignis is very picky about who gets to call him a nerd.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have been writing ANGST for this godforsaken series and I was completely burnt out on it. And, uh, rhymeswithpi made a comment about...something? I don't even remember. And I just. Started writing this. It was like midnight when I started okay? SOMEBODY STOP ME I CAN'T NOT FLUFF
> 
> Iggy's about 16/17 in this one, and he still has that stupid bowl-cut hairstyle. Fuckin' nerd.

_Different Beat_

“Just _once_ ,” Gladio says, knowing he’s downright begging at this point and not really caring. “Just come once and I’ll never bother you about it again, I swear.”

“We created our training schedule for a _reason_ , Gladio,” Iggy says. He sighs loudly when Gladio gives him another pleading look, then pulls out his phone to look at his schedule. Gladio watches him flick the screen once, then twice, then a _third_ time, and then flick it back again. Iggy sighs again, longer than before. “I suppose if you won’t shut up about it I can spare a half hour after next week’s meeting.”

Gladio punches the air to let off some of his excitement, since he can’t just slap Iggy on the shoulder like he would a _normal person_. “That’s perfect,” he says. “You’re perfect. Have I told you that recently?”

Iggy sighs _yet again_ , but Gladio's used to him at this point and isn't offended. Even when Iggy starts grumbling something he can't quite hear but knows is uncomplimentary. It's all good; Iggy fucking loves him. (Iggy at least hates him less than he hates everyone else. It's proven by the fact that Gladio is still standing after all of their interactions.)

Iggy even continues to not-hate him over the course of the week as Gladio takes every possible opportunity to remind him about the training. Not that Iggy would forget, or even pretend to forget so he could get out of it. Gladio just likes to see how far he can push until Iggy actually reacts to him with something more than a sigh, and he considers every irritated eyebrow twitch to be a minor victory.

But finally the day arrives, and Gladio even meets Iggy in the hallway outside of the meeting room. All the stuffy political types and stuck-up aristocrats who were in it stare at him as they walk by (except his dad, who narrows his eyes in suspicion), and Iggy just sighs at him. Gladio grins, and catches himself a second before he smacks Iggy on the back. Shit, he should be used to the rule about not touching him by now.

"Don't look so happy to see me," he says, hoping a verbal greeting will take the extra tension out of Iggy's shoulders. "Somebody might think you like me or something."

"They'd be wrong," Iggy mutters, but he does relax as much as he ever manages to when he's surrounded by people.

Gladio laughs, because one of them should get to act like a human being still, but he falls silent when he notices that Iggy's staring at his phone again. He's tapping something into it, probably still taking notes from the meeting while he remembers them, and eventually starts flicking through his schedule again. Gladio peers nosily over his shoulder, but can't make sense of the colorful blocks.

"I thought I would remind you," Iggy says, his tone mild in a way that makes Gladio back off, "that I only have thirty minutes before I have to leave for my next appointment."

"Is this revenge for this week?" Gladio asks.

Iggy gives him a look that's so completely devoid of emotion it's definitely a 'yes'.

"Fuckin' nerd," Gladio grumbles.

" _Language_ ," Iggy snaps. Gladio snickers.

The conversation has carried them to the training rooms. Before Iggy can start heading for their normal room, Gladio waves him over to a little-used lounge. Nobody's there for a change, so he digs a bag of popcorn out of his stash hidden in a corner cabinet nobody likes to use. Iggy doesn't sigh, but Gladio can feel the judgmental eyes on him as he sticks it in the much-abused microwave and grabs a bowl to put it in.

"Absolutely no hamsters in the microwave?" Iggy asks, staring at the microwave door. Gladio looks back at it in surprise; he'd forgotten about that sign.

"Yeah, apparently no goldfish either," Gladio says. "That part's new."

Iggy sighs.

A few minutes later, Gladio leads Iggy to the right room with the bowl tucked in the crook of his arm. He pretends not to notice Iggy sneaking a few bites, but carefully makes sure not to reach for the bowl when he does.

"Oh, great," somebody says as they enter the room. "The _nerd's_ here."

There's a small scattering of laughter as Iggy freezes, and Gladio bites his lip to hold back a smile. This is _exactly_ what he'd been hoping for. Some of the guys have been giving him shit for weeks, because he'd rather have lunch with 'some nerd' after training than spend even more time with them, and it's been grating on his nerves. Because, yeah, Iggy definitely looks like one, because he kind of _is_ one, but that doesn't mean they get to say it. Not when it becomes an insult in their mouths. And Gladio probably could have just taken care of it himself, technically. He could've just kicked their asses, made it clear that he didn't want to hear them talking about his friend that way, and it would've stopped. But only when Gladio was around. It wouldn't make a difference in what they actually thought of him.

Anyway, watching Iggy take care of it himself was _way_ more satisfying.

"Weapons?" Iggy asks quietly, already starting to take off his tie.

"Martial arts training today," Gladio says. His voice is a little too bright, but he can't _help_ it. This is going to be great.

"Oh, does the little nerd want to fight?" the same person asks in a mocking tone, and one of the guys steps forward. He's as big as Gladio, probably even as strong as him, but he doesn't have the skill to back it up. "You know, I really _hate_ to beat on little guys like you."

Iggy raises one eyebrow, giving Gladio a look as he hands over his tie. On him it means something like 'you've got to be fucking kidding me'. On anyone else it would just be ridiculous. Gladio grins and waves at Iggy before throwing the tie loosely around his own neck and finding a good spot of wall to lean against.

"Give a shout if you need a hand," he says.

Iggy doesn't dignify that with a response. He just steps toward the other guy, rolling his neck. He doesn't even take off his jacket. The bully laughs at him, low and mocking, but it stops when Iggy stops in front of him to give a strained bow.

"Cute," the bully says, and bows mockingly back. Gladio winces as he grabs another handful of popcorn; Iggy's not going to appreciate someone disrespecting a _fight_ , never mind how they feel about Iggy himself.

Not that it's really much of a fight. Iggy lets the guy get a couple hits in, hard ones that must hurt like hell, and doesn't even change expression when the guy insists Iggy actually start fighting back like a man. The next time he swings, Iggy blocks it easily, steps in toward him, and throws him. Gladio has a perfect view of the asshole's face. It's kind of beautiful.

Iggy steps back and bows again. Then he turns to the rest of the assembled men, adjusts his glasses, and asks, "Does anyone else want to call me a nerd?"

He's greeted with dead silence. And the sound of Gladio crunching on his popcorn. And the guy on the floor groaning a bit pathetically.

"I thought so," Iggy says. He steps around his 'opponent', snatches his tie from around Gladio's neck, and then takes the popcorn.

"Hey!" Gladio says, but he's too entertained to make a big deal out of it.

"I swear, if you got salt on my tie…" Iggy mutters.

Gladio rolls his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, you'll probably kill me in my sleep. Don't worry, your tie is _fine_. Nerd."

"Stubborn ass."

" _Language_."

Iggy makes a little huffing sound that's as good as a laugh, a tiny smile curling up the corners of his lips.

"You have to leave for CwC, whatever the hell that is," Gladio says, even though he wants Iggy to stay and actually train with them. "You're gonna be late."

"I hadn't noticed the time." The smile instantly falls from Iggy's face. He turns to go, still holding the bowl of popcorn, and Gladio just lets him take it. Idiot doesn't eat enough anyway.

"Good afternoon, sir," Iggy says a moment later, and Gladio looks at the doorway to see none other than his dad standing there. He hastily brushes at the front of his shirt, hoping he didn't spill anything on it.

"Good afternoon, Ignis," Gladio's dad says, smiling at Iggy fondly. "Good fight. Are you bringing the popcorn to our meeting?"

"It's from your son, sir," Iggy says. "Besides, I'd hardly call coffee a meeting."

Clarus snorts. "How thoughtful of him."

They leave the training room together, and Gladio shakes his head as he sees his dad take some of the popcorn. He still doesn't really get their relationship.

When he turns back to the room, everyone is staring at him like they're waiting for some sort of explanation. Gladio stares back for a long moment, perplexed.  
  
"Oh," he says, scratching the back of his head. "Guess I never mentioned that my dad trained Iggy, did I?"

**Author's Note:**

> The sign on the microwave is later replaced to read "NO LIVE ANIMALS, YOU FUCKS".  
> Iggy sees the new sign, sighs loudly, and scrawls "LANGUAGE" underneath in impeccable cursive.


End file.
